


Pink Floyd Sings It

by lipservice (thescariestadverbs)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescariestadverbs/pseuds/lipservice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows his mark on the world was always destined to be left in blood, he’s made peace with that.</p><p>Dean & Cas sharing a moment as the sun sets</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Floyd Sings It

_there’s a lie behind my smile_  
 _a truth that can’t be told_  
 _it’s a load that I can’t share_  
 _so I carry that load on my own_

_I’ve been bold and I’ve been beaten_  
 _I’ve come ahead and I’ve lost_  
 _everything I’ve been given_  
 _has been worth the pain it’s cost_  
\- Matt Andersen - Bold and Beaten

It’s a quiet evening, the kind where the world seems to be at peace. The sky is tinged with pinks and purples and blues as the sun makes its descent. It hovers, just above the water, creating a ripple of sparkles. The air is warm, comforting. It wraps around Dean like a soft blanket. He leans against the hood of the Impala and breathes in deep. The air is so full of spring and sweetness, he can almost taste it. 

It must be a dream, he tells himself, it has to be. Nothing in his life has ever felt so perfect. 

There is music coming from the car. He can’t make out the words but it’s a soft, acoustic tune. It dances along with the breeze, ruffling his hair and kissing his cheeks. He rolls his shoulders back, releasing the tension he’s been holding his whole life. He smiles, a small, light smile. In the haze of the sunset the real smile is in his glass green eyes. He closes them and leans back, just taking a moment to feel the breeze and the music and the heat touch his skin.

It can’t stay like this, of course, he knows that. The world will ebb and flow. The darkness, the danger will flow with it and he’ll be ready. But right now, in this very moment, he can pretend. He opens his eyes. He watches a bird as it dives down towards the water, missing it’s prey. It circles around and comes back. 

“Dean,” it comes from behind him. A gravelly, deep, familiar voice. 

“Come here,” Dean responds. He shifts over on the hood to make room.

Cas stands beside him for a second before awkwardly leaning against the hood, “we have to talk,” he says, his tone all business and seriousness. He’s dressed differently, jeans and a plaid shirt, and it still throws Dean off for a second.

“Shh,” Dean reaches over, taking Cas’s hand in his, “not yet.” 

“Dean, this is important,” Cas tugs at Dean’s hand clumsily.

Dean untangles his hand from Cas’s and looks over at him. He brushes a stray eyelash from Cas’s cheek before wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close, “not yet,” he says again. 

Cas leans in, breathing in the musky scent from Dean’s clothes. They smell like Dean, simple and manly, with a bit of blood and sweat and gunpowder mixed in. He doesn’t have a lot of time but he’s quiet. He watches, with Dean, as the bird circles around again, stalking it’s dinner and preparing to dive. 

Dean’s arm is light on his shoulders. There is a comfort to it that he’s never known before. He closes his eyes when he feels Dean press his lips to his temple and for a moment even he can let the world melt away. This, Cas thinks to himself, this is how the world should be. Warm and quiet and inviting. Safe. 

Two kids run down the beach, screaming and laughing, a kite trailing on the ground behind them. They wave at Dean and Cas on their way by. Dean squints his eyes at the sunlight and waves back with his free hand. He leans his cheek to the top of Cas’s head and he smiles.

The sun is lower in the sky, it’s bleeding into the water as it sinks. A young, blond woman calls to the boys and they all head towards a car. The sound of laughter and chatter takes over, drowning out the music. They load into the car with clangs and bangs and cheers and once they are gone the silence, though welcome, feels a little more lonely. 

Dean can’t ever remember visiting a beach. Not like this anyway. Or watching the sunset. He can barely remember not having somewhere to be, something to fight, someone to save. He doesn’t regret his choice, he never would, to step up and follow in his father’s footsteps. He knows his mark on the world was always destined to be left in blood, he’s made peace with that.

He can’t help it, though in this beautiful moment, to wonder what it would have been like to walk away from it all. He wouldn’t be able to appreciate this the same way, though, and the idea that it would be anyone other than Cas just isn’t right. This moment is meant to be shared with Cas. He turns slightly and places a chaste kiss to Cas’s lips. 

Cas kisses him back tentatively, trembling. Dean presses his lips, hard, to Cas’s forehead and pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly before he kisses him again. It’s deeper, softer than the last and Cas clings to him so tightly he’s worried to let go. Cas settles beside him though, as the sun dips below the horizon and the wind starts to pick up. 

Even in after the calm, there is one nagging feeling at the back of Dean’s mind. He looks around, examining his scenery. The mountains, the trees. The road that ends right here, right before the beach, looking out at the water. It’s familiar in a piercing sort of way. It’s not that though, that throws him off, “where is Sam?” he asks, his hand tracing circles on Cas’s back. 

“Dean - “ Cas starts, pulling away so he can face him.

Dean can hear the tension in Cas’s voice and he cocks his head sharply, “where is Sam?” 

“Sam’s fine,” Cas sighs. More or less anyway. 

The music in the car shifts, faster tempo, quicker beat. The bird screeches, diving down, “what’s going on, Cas?” Blood drips from the bird as it flies off with it’s prey. 

“I don’t have a lot of time,” Cas starts again, “they only gave me so much time.” 

Dean’s confused. He looks at the water, dark and eerie and then back at Cas, whose reaching for his hand, eyes a little too wide and smiling a little too big. He squeezes Cas’s hand unconsciously, “what do you mean?” 

“You know where you are, Dean,” Cas says, squeezing back reassuringly, “you do. I called in a lot of favors to be here, we don’t have a lot of time.” 

Dean looks out to the beach, where the boys had been running earlier. They had looked familiar, if he thought about it a little harder. So had their mother, truth be told. He looks at Cas and at the car and he can see his brother.

_”Mom always wanted to bring you here,” Dean said, looking at young Sam in the passenger seat._

He hadn’t understood then, hell he could barely understand now. Cas is looking at him, his blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. Dean looks around again, quickly, “why are we here?”

“You know the answer,” Cas says cryptically. 

“Fuck, Cas, stop talking in riddles,” Dean lets go and runs his hand through his hair. 

Cas looks up at the sky, “I had to promise,” he says, “that I would let you remember on your own. It’s not my place but you know the answers, Dean. You know them.”

He can taste blood in his mouth and he’s longing for the sunset and the warmth. The trees shiver in the breeze and the water ripples and everything feels sharp and dark and wrong. He reaches out and touches Cas’s cheek. It’s cold. Everything is cold. 

He can remember it in shifts, broken moments of time. He can remember the demon and the gun. He can remember Sam yelling. He can remember Cas scrambling across the floor, jumping and tackling a minute too late. He can remember Sam’s hand, hard and painful on his stomach. Cas’s tears. The blood, everywhere. Filling his mouth and running down his chin. The taste of it, thick and heavy on his tongue. Coughing and sputtering and blood everywhere. 

“No,” he says slowly, backing up, “no, no, no, no.” 

“Dean,” Cas reaches out.

Dean pushes his arm away, “no,” he says definitively, “it can’t be.” 

“Heaven takes care of his soldiers, Dean. At least it tries to. You were always destined to end up here. You spun the plan off it’s axis when you made that deal and ended up in hell, you were never supposed to.” Cas grabs his arm and pulls him close, “you did it, you saved the world. You did everything you were destined to do.”

“There is no heaven anymore, remember?” Dean struggles against Cas’s grasp. 

“Heaven exists whether there are angels or not, Dean.”

“No,” Dean says again, he’s breathing heavy and he slides to his knees, “Cas...” 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas kneels down in front of him, “I can’t tell you how sorry. I should have saved you. I tried to.”

Dean doesn’t realize he’s crying until he tastes the tears. The wind whips around them, stinging his cheeks, “this doesn’t feel like heaven,” he says, looking around. He’d given up on life so long ago, but Sam and Cas. They need him. He has to protect them. They aren’t ready to be on their own. 

“Heaven isn’t static, Dean. It’s not linear. It’s what you make it. It’s not one moment, over and over, at least it doesn’t have to be. It’s up to you. It’s all up to you.”

“This never happened, though,” Dean rests his forehead on Cas, “this can’t be real.” 

“You really don’t remember?” Cas pulls away and looks over his shoulder. He drops his voice to a whisper, “it started right after you brought Sam here.” 

Dean struggles, trying to remember, “it was a dream,” he says slowly, leaning back on his heels, “it was all a dream. Those boys...”

“You and Sam,” Cas nods, “and your mom.” 

“I had that dream every night for a year,” Dean looks around, panic subsiding.

“We can’t bring you back this time,” Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “I’m not sure I’d want to. You’ve earned this, Dean.” 

Dean shakes his head, struggling to his feet, “Sam needs me. Who’s going to protect him? And you?”

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay,” Cas whispers soothingly as he pulls Dean in. 

The wind dies down, the water is as still as glass. His tongue feels thick and warm in his mouth. It’s like it’s filled with cotton. It’s surreal, all of it. The mountains, the trees, the water. He leans down and kisses Cas again. It’s a deep and painful kiss. It’s filled with tension and fear and sadness. It’s filled with promises of things that could never come to pass. 

“I have to go,” Cas breathes out, long and slow. Dean pulls him closer, if possible. He kisses him again, so hard that it’s as if he thinks they can’t send Cas back if they are connected. Cas places a nervous hand on Dean’s chest, “I can’t come back.” 

Dean knows though, somehow, somewhere deep inside he knows. He closes his eyes kisses Cas on the forehead, “I love you,” he says quietly. When he opens his eyes he’s alone. He leans back against the hood of the Impala and watches as the sun begins to rise. 

_I’ve been bold and I’ve been beaten_  
 _I’ve come ahead and I’ve lost_  
 _everything I’ve been given_  
 _has been worth the pain it’s cost_  
\- Matt Andersen - Bold and Beaten


End file.
